Live for my Dying
by LadyAshLeaves
Summary: How do you do justice to someone who gives their life for you, when you can’t live without them?
1. Beginning with an Ending

A/N Whoopsy sorry to anyone who read this before I put up my note. I beg your forgiveness, and plead sleep deprivation... anyway this is my first POTC fic. Please I beg of you review, and if you don't like it feel free to flame, tis a matter of opinion, just try to keep the insults on my ancestors to a minimum, they're sensitive.  
  
Disclaimer: If it was in the movie it's not mine... / awww why can't I claim it? Because it's not yours ya hear!!!.... uh enjoy  
  
Live for My Dying  
  
Chapter One Beginning with an Ending  
  
She turned her face to the west wind and closed her eyes. Letting its cool fierceness tug at her hair, which fought bravely against the pins which held it cruelly bound. One small lock broke free and she felt it against her face as it danced in the wind. A small smile reached her lips and she tried to concentrate her whole being into that strand of hair, so that she too was free.  
  
Her smile turned into a sigh of contentment, as she realised that her ordeal was over. She leant against the ship's rail, resting her chin on her hands. It was unladylike, but she'd had more then enough of etiquette, and for now she was more then pleased to leave it behind. Opening her eyes she stared out across the sea at the setting sun. She always missed Caribbean sunsets, watching the sunset over the land was never as spectacular as this.  
  
"Getting an education never seemed worth this," she breathed, going over the last seven years in her mind. Madame De La Croix's School for Young Ladies, was in a town a days ride inland, in one of the many mainland British colonies. Born and raised on an island port, the total loss of the sounds and smells of the sea had been terribly unnerving. Homesickness had been a leaden weight on her heart every second she had spent at school, and the burden had not been eased in the slightest by the other girls' derision of her raising and manner. She was new money; disgustingly below their regard, and they had not let her forget it for a second.  
  
She almost sighed again, but the sound of footsteps made her turn around instead. A smile spread widely across her face at the sight of her father. He put an arm around her shoulders and wordlessly they, turned together to watch the sun slipping beneath the water. Surreptitiously she studied him, reacquainting herself with him and noting anything that had changed in her absence, a deepening of the creases around his eyes, the slightly denser patches of silver at his temples, contrasting with his cobalt hair. He was definitely thinner.  
  
Her eyes returned to his face. He was a handsome man, with a strong jaw, straight nose and hazels eyes that lit his face when he smiled. Those eyes were the only feature she had inherited from him, that and a stubbornness of her jaw line. She had often wondered why he had not remarried when her mother had died in childbirth seventeen years ago; there had been no shortage of offers. Not that she'd minded; she had never been happier then when in it was just the two of them.  
  
He had been the harbourmaster at the port of one of the most prosperous islands colonized by the British. She had grown up in the midst of the bustle of the docks, happy amongst ebb and flow of the tide of seafaring humanity. Running wild with the dock boys and listening to the stories of world wise sailors, who were feeling indulgent. Her world was contained there and at the centre of it, always watching over everything, was her father.  
  
The last of the suns light disappeared and it was suddenly dark, her father's arm tightened warmly around her shoulders, once. Then he turned to her and smiled,  
  
"Come inside 'speth, dinner has been sent up from the galley for us."  
  
She returned his smile and they walked together below deck. So much had changed over the years, but always, always he had remained constant.  
  
When she was eight, they had received word of the death of some obscure relative of her father. He had inherited a small trading firm. To most this would have been a paltry windfall, barely worth the effort it took to run. But with her father's patient hand and wide contacts, this windfall had taken seed and blossomed.  
  
It had only taken two years. Two years for him to come into control of almost all major trading rights in the Caribbean Sea. Two years for the world of the aristocracy to open up to them. Two years for their lives to come under the scrutiny of hateful gossips and snide socialites and be turned upside-down.  
  
However her father had not let this faze him, he had seized hold of these new opportunities, seen them as his chance to give his daughter a good life. He was determined that she would grow up a lady, the daughter of Marcus Hunter owner of the largest fleet of merchant vessels in the Caribbean, not Marcus the harbourmaster's brat. And so though it broke his heart not to have her with him, he sent his little Elspeth to school.  
  
Thus began her ordeal. Totally unsure of what to expect, she had arrived, as a grubby, wide eyed eleven year old, into a world of beautiful young girls who were always impeccably clean, who sat up straight, spoke softly and properly and only ever walked gracefully. It was here that Elspeth learnt that everything about her was inappropriate.  
  
Proper girls weren't supposed to be tanned and freckled from spending all their days in the sun. Their hair was not supposed to hang in long brown sun bleached straggles. They definitely weren't supposed to say anything, especially not what was on their mind.  
  
They flooded her world with hairpins that were pulled so tightly they felt as if the were going to rip your face off, corsets that squeezed the air from your lungs and made you feel light-headed and table manners that involved so many useless knives forks and spoons, that's she wanted to scream and shove the salad fork, down the throat of the next person she saw.  
  
Despite this, she endured it all with relative equanimity. She had almost given up once, after the first year. She knew that if she asked him her father would not make her go back. But when he came to pick her up for the end of year respite, she had looked at his face and seen his happiness at the chance he had given her and the words had died in her throat.  
  
For six years she had kept herself detached from her school world, and been as ladylike as she could, because it was for him. And now it was over and her mind exulted at that thought.  
  
That night they ate together in the master cabin, on one of her fathers many ships and they recounted the past few years, perfectly happy in each others company. It was rather late when she kissed him on the cheek and sought her bed. In her own small cabin she undressed to her shift and climbed into the bunk.  
  
She sprang from her bed at the sound of a loud banging on her door. It burst open and her father ran into the room. Immediately she knew that something was wrong.  
  
"We're being run down by pirates," he said, confirming her fears, "Hurry get dressed and come to my cabin, it's the most defensible." He embraced her quickly and then all but ran out through the door. Hurriedly she pulled on her least ornate dress, not bothering with a corset and ran down the corridor her hair streaming out behind her, brushing past members of the crew running in all directions. She reached the cabin and stepped out of the flood people, trying to block out the sound of the conflicting orders being yelled from all directions. Suddenly her father's voice cut through the noise,  
  
"Everyone, not currently needed elsewhere, arm yourselves and go out on deck!" he shouted, and the noise abated and the crew moved forward with purpose. Her father hurried towards her and quickly guided her into the cabin, "Lock the door and barricade it, stay in here and do not move!" she opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her with a look, "Do it Elspeth! I have to go, don't open this door until I tell you to!"  
  
"Alright." She sighed, biting her lip.  
  
He took something from around his neck and put it over her head,  
  
"Keep this safe," he said softer this time. He hugged her tightly and then was gone. She look down at what he had put around her neck. It was his official seal bearing the insignia of his trading firm. In the wrong hands it could do a lot of damage.  
  
Resolutely she tucked the seal into her bodice, closed and bolted the door, then looked around for things to barricade it. She cursed quietly, being in a ship cabin ship almost everything was bolted down. She pushed a small but heavy desk against the door and kept the chair within easy reach, it would be useless in holding the door but she might be able to use it as a weapon should the door be breached.  
  
This done she began to pace. She was in an inside cabin and therefore had no porthole, she could hear very little of what was occurring on deck. Suddenly there came loud thumps and the sound of running feet. They had been boarded. She clamped down hard on her lip and tasted blood.  
  
The sounds from above slowly diminished. Elspeth transferred her teeth from her shredded lip, to her knuckle, her other hand wrenching at her hair as she strained to listen.  
  
Her heart sank as she heard sounds of doors being wrenched open and cabins being searched. She pushed all thoughts of anything but the situation at hand from her mind, refusing to panic. Taking a deep breath she reached for the chair and gathered her wits as she heard them draw ever closer to her cabin. She heard rough voices at her door and gravely shouts as they tried her door and found it too be locked. A pistol fired and a smoking hole appeared where the lock had been.  
  
Quietly she moved across the room until she was against the wall right next to the door. Raising the chair in her hands she waited. There was a resounding crash as many bodies rammed against the door, the desk moved few inches across the floor. Quickly lowering the chair, Elspeth dragged the desk out of the way before they could ram the door again. She heard them count to three, but this time when they hit the door they met with no resistance and four raggedly dressed men tumbled into the cabin.  
  
With a hoarse scream she brought the chair down on the head of the closest one and ran out of the now clear door, away from the still shocked pirates. She prayed silently that they had no friends waiting for them in the corridor, already knowing it was hopeless and that there was nowhere to run. Gathering her skirts in her hands he made for the deck, as she heard shouts and sounds of pursuit behind her.  
  
Finally with the deck in sight she glanced behind her to see how close her pursuers were. Satisfied that they were far enough behind, she turned back only to find her way blocked by a giant of a man. She skidded to a stop, looked over her shoulder begging for an escape but finding only the four pirates from the cabin. She cursed loudly as they all closed in around her smirking. One, she noticed had a steady trickle of blood coming from his scalp, he was glaring at her particularly maliciously.  
  
"Stupid bloody strumpet," he snarled at her stepping forward to grab hold of her.  
  
She back fisted him in the face, making him take a step back clutching his nose,  
  
"Get the wench!" he screamed enraged and suddenly she was grabbed roughly from all sides. She struggled madly letting lose kicks, punches, screams and biting any hand or arm that came into range, but all to no avail. Finally her hands were locked behind her back, by the giant. The bloody one pulled her head back by the hair and looked into her face, she glared at him and he smirked, "Bring 'er to the capt'n." he said to the giant, then he and the other three moved off to search the remaining cabins.  
  
The giant grunted and forced her out from below. She gasped at what she saw on deck, many of the crew had been killed and lay in small heaps, here and there. She nearly gagged at the sight of them, fear for her father churning her stomach. Frantically she scanned the deck looking for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. The giant dragged her to the rail and pushed her across a boarding plank onto a mean fast looking ship that was tied onto her father's vessel.  
  
Scanning this new terrain, she sighed gustily with relief at the sight of her father, with a small huddle of prisoners at the starboard rail. She caught his eyes for a second, and then the giant grunted again and twisted her arm painfully, dragging her towards a tall grizzled man wearing a tri- corn hat.  
  
"Cap'n," the giant grunted in a thick gravely voice, "Found 'er below."  
  
The captain looked her over, "Tie 'er arms Ox," he said grinning, "It's time I had a little discussion with the prisoners."  
  
Elspeth struggled again frantically, freeing her hands for a second, but the giant dealt her a dizzying blow to the temple. Before her head stopped spinning her hands were caught again, this time in front of her, and her wrists tightly bound. An arm snaked roughly around her waist and she was pulled against the body of the captain. He leered down at her then dragged across the deck to stand in front of the prisoners.  
  
"Now," he said in a booming voice, "I'll not waste words on ye lot." Elspeth caught her fathers eyes and he returned her gaze calmly, "I'm sure ye're situation is all too obvious." He nodded slightly at her, and then turned his gaze on the captain, "Ye have two choices, join my crew, or die."  
  
This statement was met by defiant looks on all accounts. One of the young deckhands piped up,  
  
"What about the lass?"  
  
The captain smirked, "The lass of course will be joining with the crew," he said pulling her close to him again. She arched away from him turning her face as far from his as possible. His lecherous breath, sending sick chills down her spine. There was a snarl from the prisoners and suddenly her father ran forward hands untied, with a small knife outstretched.  
  
For a moment Elspeth sense sharpened, accentuating every detail so that it would remain in her memory with a sickening clarity. A loud bang cut through her mind followed by a roaring that drowned out everything. She saw every movement her father made as he jolted backwards once and fell to the deck. His head rolled to the side and for one last second she held his gaze. Then the light in his hazel eyes went out.  
  
With a scream that she did not hear Elspeth ran forward, not even registering that the captain had let her go to fire his pistol. She fell to her knees at her father's side, shaking him futilely, tears coursing down her face. With a rush the roaring in her ears subsided and she could hear, over the sound of her own sobbing, the captain's raucous laughter. Her senses narrowed on that one sound, bound hands quickly finding her fathers small knife. She sprang to her feet,  
  
"YOU BASTARD I'LL KILL YOU!" she screamed her anguish, but before she could take more then a step, the giant and other members of the pirate crew formed a barricade between her and their captain.  
  
Snarling expletives that would have had her kicked out of school, Elspeth was backed slowly towards the rail.  
  
"Capt'n Kerris, I don't think she thinks much of your hospitality." A small whipcord pirate giggled in a high pitched voice, "Praps she expected a tour of the ship?"  
  
Elspeth now had her back to the rail and the circle was growing ever smaller. She looked frantically around for anything of any use to her.  
  
"What a splendid idea mate," the captain said stepping into Elspeth's line of sight, her lip curled viciously at him, "Yer Ladyship may I present my ship, there's the bow and there's the stern," he smirked pointing to each respectively.  
  
She glared at him with all the hatred she could muster. Catching sight of an empty tar bucket she hooked it over her foot.  
  
"And here's the starboard rail!" she hissed flinging herself over the side.  
  
She tumbled over once, twice, and then crashed down shattering the frigid black surface. Slowly she slid into the sea's dark embrace. 


	2. Exchange Drowning for Breathing

A/N GAAAHHHH!!!!!!!! I HAD REVIEWS!!! WOOT! My dear sweet wonderful people, who read my story, THANK YOU!!!!!!  
  
bEaUtIfUlBrAt: OF course I'll read your fic! And I'll review, Thank you so much for the compliments MWA!!  
  
Marauder Lupin: Here is the next chapter for you, you like my descriptions YAY thank you soooooooooooooo much for reviewing.  
  
If none of you could tell I am extremely excited!! If anyone read this and didn't review I hope enjoyed it, if not tell me why!!  
  
Now onto the story!  
  
Live for My Dying  
  
Chapter Two Exchange Drowning for Breathing  
  
Elspeth stared wistfully at the dim light shining down on her through the water. She'd been playing a chasing game on the end of the pier with the boys; she'd been running backwards and trip on a coil of rope. Both she and the rope had fallen into the deep water, hopelessly tangled together. For what seemed like forever she struggled with the rope, becoming completely disorientated.  
  
Finally free of the rope, relief swimming through her veins, she had swum as fast as she could. Eyes tightly clenched closed, she had expected to break the surface at any second. She had wondered briefly why it was getting so cold and dark. Finally her lungs burning, she had opened her eyes... to darkness. Terrified the air burst from her lungs, the bubbles flew upwards and she turned with them, and had seen the sun.  
  
The light was dim, it was so far, too far, she couldn't reach it. Her oxygen starved brain registered only gentle sadness at this, but a corner of her mind suddenly screamed. Wait! This has happened before, don't be sad daddy jumped in and saved me! It's alright he'll be here any second now!  
  
And so Elspeth waited, but the light went out. Daddy wasn't coming, a new voice said, daddy's dead. And suddenly Elspeth's mind, stunned from the impact with the water cleared. She remembered, and for a moment all that mattered was breathing. She kicked her legs crazily, her dress had become water logged and was pulling her down. She tried to use her arms but they were still tied. It was so dark; she had no way of knowing how far she was from the surface.  
  
Her tears merged with the salt water and her kicking slowed,  
  
"What's the point?" she said silently  
  
"Come on your almost there," she heard his voice, even though she knew it wasn't possible.  
  
She kicked strongly once, twice and once more, and her head broke the surface. Cool, fresh wonderful air filled her lungs, but the aching in her chest didn't subside no matter how many times she drew the sweet air down her throat.  
  
Bobbing up and down next to her was the tar bucket; she kicked towards it reaching out for it. She realised then that she still held the small knife clenched in her bound hands. Looping her arms around the bucket, she used her elbows to balance it close to her. Shocked at how close she was coming to swamping it with the added weight of her waterlogged dress, she kicked strenuously to keep her head above the water.  
  
Looking around she saw the ships, far too close for comfort. Hoping the darkness would conceal her, she kicked herself away from it careful not to make any splashes. She pushed all thought of what might be lurking in the dark water beneath her, along with the voice of reason telling her that all that waited for in the open ocean was death.  
  
Only when she thought she was far enough away did she look back. There was a light growing on her father's ship. It took her a moment to realise it was a fire, and by the time she did it had spread across the deck and was licking at the main mast. The sight of one of her father's fine ships burning, made the pain in her chest constrict, but with the constriction came a hardening.  
  
Now was not the time for grief, it was the time for survival, if that was possible. He was dead, but he had died so that she would live. For her to die now would be to throw his sacrifice back in his face. She would do anything to be worthy of his gift.  
  
She swam further so that the light from the burning ship wouldn't give her away. Finally when the two ships were small points in the distance she stopped and began to cut at the ropes at her wrists. With her wrists finally free she let the knife and the rope drop into the bucket and shucked out her dress, leaving her freezing in just her shift, but much more buoyant.  
  
Now floating comfortably, she relaxed her grip on her thoughts just a little, so that she could think a ways into the future.  
  
"Maybe," she thought to herself, "I'll get found and picked up by another merchant man, or a naval vessel"  
  
"More likely, I'll die of starvation... Although thirst probably will come first," the thought popped into her head and suddenly as if it had opened a floodgate, it was joined may many more like it.  
  
"Maybe I freeze first," suddenly she felt very, very cold. She found herself wishing she had left the dress on.  
  
"I might get picked off buy some sort of sea beast," this charming thought made her imagine she felt something brush past her ankle.  
  
"Or I'll fall asleep and lose the bucket," she yawned widely, and then was suddenly angry with herself. She couldn't do this, she'd drive herself mad!  
  
Reaching into the bucket she pulled out the rope and tied one end tightly around her wrist and the other around the handle of the wooden bucket.  
  
"There!" she said aloud in an accusing voice, "Does that satisfy you?"  
  
Realising what she had just done, she sighed frustrated and tired. She would have given anything, right then, just to sleep a heavy dreamless sleep. Resting her chin on the rim of the bucket, she settled down for a long wait. A wait she wasn't sure she'd see the end of.  
  
The sun high overhead played over her like fire. Her shoulders ached where her shift ended and she longed to sink beneath the cool water, but every time she tried, the voice in her head would come alive and sharply tell her not to. Next time her feverish mind mumbled next time I will ignore the voice, I will ignore and I will stop the burning.  
  
Still each time, the voice had piped up again and she couldn't ignore it, each time she had held onto the bucket and continued to burn. But not this time, voice be damned she was a crisp and she wanted to cool down! She made to let go of the bucket, but as soon as she did the voice began again in her ear.  
  
"Leave me alone," she croaked her voice thick and rough. The voice stilled  
  
Slowly she released her grip on the bucket and the water close gently over her head, it was so lovely. She pushed herself down deeper, so that she could reached the cooler water at her feet. All of a sudden the bucket flipped and something shiny fell down past her face. By the time her muddled mind realised what it was, it had already slipped well past her feet.  
  
The knife! She mustn't lose the knife! Sluggishly she tried to swim after it but some thing held her back, she struggled furiously against it, stretching with all her might to reach the knife, but the bucket had flipped fully over, trapping a large air bubble inside it. It was going to let her get far underwater.  
  
Two voices argued in her mind. One screamed at her to get the knife, which had by now slipped completely out of sight, the other told her firmly to go back to the bucket. The second voice strengthened by the physical force holding her back by her wrist eventually won out over the first. She surfaced and returned to the bucket which, when flipped back the right way, now contained a small amount of water.  
  
The sound of the water sloshing in the bucket reminded her how thirsty she was, the water in the bucket looked so good, even if it was saltwater, just a little bit couldn't hurt could it. The same voice that had made her return to the bucket scolded her sharply and told her not to drink the water.  
  
A sob escaped her throat, followed by another and soon she was crying in earnest. She cried because the voice wouldn't leave her alone. She cried because she was thirsty and because the sun was burning her again. Also she cried for a sorrow that she couldn't remember a fact which made her cry worse, because she should remember. This sorrow was a part of her. It was her. It had been baked into a stone in her heart, where it lay heavily slowly expanding through her whole body. She should remember it!  
  
The sobs tore at her throat choking her. She wanted it to stop, but the voice wouldn't let her go; the sorrow wouldn't let her go. 


	3. Surviving Salvation

A/N Hello again! Thanks for the wonderful reviews Saxony and Marauder Lupin, you have no idea how fulfilling it is for me to here that I brought you both to tears! :D I apologise for the loss of the knife, but it was a sacrifice I had to make. We all shall mourn it but the story could not continue without its dramatic departure. So here is the my newest offering to you wonderful people, I apologise if it is a little rushed but I had to finish it off quickly, sleep is calling to me. Enjoy!  
  
Live for My Dying  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Surviving Salvation  
  
Captain Sparrow stood at the helm. One hand resting on it lightly, maintaining contact, monitoring the tensions and vibrations he could feel through it. As well as guiding the ship's course, the helm could tell him intimate things about the currents and wind which truly controlled the ship. In turn he could harness them.  
  
He looked out over his Pearl, at his crew about there work. They had been at sea for about a month now, and things had been relatively quiet. Having met with a small merchant vessel and acquisitioned it's cargo, satisfying his necessity to plunder, for a while, there was nothing calling to him with any particular urgency, except of course the open sea. But then, the sea was always calling to him, as it did to any sea-faring folk.  
  
With nothing urgent to attend to he was free to sail at will waiting for something to interesting to take his attention. Their course was loosely set for the Swan Islands, Jack knew a man there who would find his purloined cargo extremely interesting, but should an opportunity arise Captain Sparrow was more then happy to change his plans.  
  
A flurry of movement in the rigging caught Jack's eye, and he lifted his gaze to see one of the two men from the nest clambering down to the deck. Jumping the last five feet, he scrambled across the deck and up the steps to the helm. Jack watched him approach; he was the youngest member of the crew and small, but he was agile clambered easily through the rigging.  
  
"Capt'n," he gasped slightly out of breath, "Falcon's spotted somethin' up ahead."  
  
"Well lad, what is it?" Sparrow asked raising an eyebrow. Falcon, wiry old scoundrel, had the sharpest eyes Jack had ever come across; he wouldn't have sent the lad down just to report a piece of drift wood.  
  
"Falcon says he don't rightly know. But tha' it's directly in our path and tha' if ye kept ye're eyes peeled ye'll see it ye're self soon enough." The lad lowered his eyes apologetic for not being more useful.  
  
"Orright then, back te yer post then." Jack commanded and watched the boy scurry off and back up into the rigging. "Gibbs!" he called.  
  
"Aye Capt'n" the older man said approaching the helm.  
  
"Take the helm for a spell, Falcon's spotted something up ahead; I'm takin' a look see." Jack replied, handing the wheel to his first mate.  
  
The Captain made his way to the bow, picking up a small looking glass on the way. Reaching the ships rail he put it to his eye scanning the sea for any irregularities. And there it was, almost directly in the Pearls path, a small white smudge on the blue green sea. Jack was stunned once again at Falcon's eyesight, if he hadn't known what he was looking for Captain Sparrow would have dismissed the smudge as a spray of foam.  
  
He focused on the smudge trying to bring it into detail; it was coming closer each second as the ship sped towards it. After a minute he was beginning to make out the shape, and a minute later let the glass drop from his eye.  
  
"I'll be," he murmured.  
  
"Capt'n?" a member of his crew asked, looking up from his work.  
  
"Prepare a line mate," Jack said, "There's a girl in the water."  
  
The man's eyes widened, "Alive Capt'n?" he asked.  
  
"Don't know yet do I?" Sparrow said with an evil grin at the sick look on the man's face. As a pirate he should be able to deal with death. The pirate hurried off to prepare a line silently praying he wouldn't be sent into the water to retrieve the girl.  
  
"Capt'n," another voice said behind him. It was the lad from the nest, "Falcon thought ye might need someone te help with the girl."  
  
"Aye," he said, dimly remembering the boy's name was Tomas "Go get a mug o' water from the galley. If she lives, it'll be the first thing she needs, savvy?"  
  
"Aye Capt'n," the boy nodded and sped away.  
  
Looking out at the fast approaching smudge, he called out for the crew to shorten sail, effectively slowing the ship. Sparrow removed his hat and sword belt, he could easily have one of the crew fetch the girl but he was enjoying the small distraction from the helm and besides he was rather intrigued. Waiting for a moment until the now discernable girl was within swimming distance, he dived neatly over the rail.  
  
Slicing into the cool Caribbean water, Jack swam out strongly, quickly breaching the distance between himself and the girl. He pulled up and treaded water, a metre or two away from her. Despite his earlier, baiting of the crew man he wasn't terribly keen on disturbing a long dead corpse. Her face was covered by her long brown hair; she appeared to be clinging to a bucket to remain a float. It was then he noticed the hair across her face moving slightly with her breath. She was alive.  
  
With this new knowledge he crossed the open water between them and called out to his crew for the line. It came snaking through the air towards him just as he reached the girl's side. He tried to pry her arms from the bucket, to tie the rope around her but she stirred and clung to it furiously, so muttering under his breath Jack grasped her around the waist tying himself to the rope. He pulled twice, signalling to the crew to pull him up.  
  
Back onboard he lay the girl down on the deck and once again tried to take the bucket from her. At first she fought again, but then her eyes flutter open her, glanced around and closed again. Her grip loosened.  
  
Tomas stepped forward with his mug of water. Jack took a step back concentrating for a moment on loosening the rope from his waist. He turned back at the sound of strangled coughing.  
  
Tomas kneeling at the girl's side had poured the water into her throat too quickly and she had choked. The Captain rolled his eyes and took the mug from the boy. Glaring at the rest of his crew who were staring idly at the girl, he told them fiercely to get back to work.  
  
"An' don't let me catch you wasting time gawking, ye here! Ye to lad," he said to the boy. Tomas had the strangest look on his face as he turned to go, glancing back at the girl once more.  
  
Sparrow muttered under his breath, and turned his attention back to the girl. Lifting her head to put the water carefully to her lips, his hand encountered something behind her neck.  
  
"Hello," he murmured, pushing aside her hair, so that he could see where the chain lead underneath the front of the thin shift she wore. His hand moved down to pull it out, but the girls eyes opened, and saw him for the first time with some clarity. Her hands flew up, violently, defensively. Water sloshed from the mug, and jack moved his hands back, to stop it from be over turned completely.  
  
"Alright! "alright luv," he said placatingly, meeting the eyes that glared at him accusingly. "Alright," he said quieter this time, "I was just trying te give some water, savvy?" He lifted her head again, and her eyes softened at the word water. She tried to drink greedily, but he made her take small sips. "Ye don't want te choke now."  
  
His eyes moved to the point were the chain disappeared. He was curious, but for now he put the matter from his mind, he'd find out soon enough. 


	4. The Past lies Charred

A/N Hi all! I'm back again! You have no idea how much fun I am having writing this and Saxony and Marauder Lupin your reviews just make it so much sweeter! Marauder Lupin, learnt the little I know about ships from my parents, they spent a lot of time as deck hands on the sister ship of the Rainbow Warrior, which was captain by an evil insane man with no sense of right or wrong, it's actually a really exciting story. I anyone wants to here it email me I'll sum it up some time lol. Actually there are a few random bits and pieces in here that are directly from my life but eh more on that later.  
  
On with the story!  
  
Live for My Dying  
  
Chapter Four  
  
The Past lies Charred  
  
Jack checked the girl rather thoroughly for injuries; she allowed in her weakened state, but she would struggle every time his hands drew anywhere near the chain around her neck, making sparrow even more curious. 'The more someone fights to hide something the more valuable it is.' However he once again pushed his curiosity aside and concentrated on the girl's wounds.  
  
They were fairly minimal. Despite being extremely dehydrated, her wrists were blistered and her shoulders had been burnt terribly by the sun, but she would heal. Looking back at her face, he saw that her eyes had closed and her breathing was even. His eyes darted down to the chain around her neck, but she was clutching it tightly in her hand. He muttered under his breath about the stubbornness of women, and then lifted her up in his arms. Tempted though he was, he decided not to carry her thrown over his shoulder, he didn't really want to have her waking up and causing a fuss.  
  
He headed below deck, still managing to maintain his relaxed but commanding saunter, despite being a little weighed down by the girl. Passing below deck, he nodded and grinned at Gibbs who was scowling at him from the helm. There was a small berth next to his cabin, it was barely more then a cupboard with a bed and a porthole, but the Pearl had a full crew at this point in time and a cargo as well, this was all there was. Besides he grinned, compared to her previous accommodations this was a vast improvement.  
  
Placing her on the bed, he looked her over properly for the first time. Her face, a little bloated from her time in the sea, although not remarkably beautiful, was hardly without its charms, and her hair was a pleasant light brown colour. Jack's eyes, moved once again to the front of her shift, although this time he was not looking at the chain. He studied her closely, and wondered what she could be worth to him. If he was lucky, she came from a wealthy family and there would be a ransom, if not, well he wasn't averse to the idea of some female company on a long trip at sea. Either way, he decided, he had reason enough to keep her in some comfort while on board.  
  
His eyes snapped back to her face when he heard her mutter something, she was still asleep but her eyelids were twitching.  
  
"I'm sorry," she rasped, her voice was rather weak but he managed to make it out.  
  
"Sorry 'bout what?" he replied trying to get some sort of information about her.  
  
"I'm sorry I lost the knife," she muttered, then she sighed and her eyes stopped moving.  
  
Captain Sparrow stood for a moment staring at the girl with one eyebrow raised. Finally he began to chuckle, quietly he closed the door and stepped out into the corridor. It was definitely worth his while to keep her around, even I only to settle his curiosity.   
  
Meeting Gibbs disapproving gaze, Sparrow ascended the steps to reclaim the helm. He raised his eyebrow questioningly at Gibbs hostility.  
  
"Are ye about te say what I think ye're goin' te say?" he asked grinning,  
  
"It's cursed bad luck Jack, en ye know it!" Gibbs stated vehemently.  
  
"Mate, what was I supposed te do? Leave 'er te die, without even knowing what she's worth?" he asked, in his extravagant voice, "If that's the case, I might begin to worry about you and this hatred for women!"  
  
"Jack! Ye know I like women as much as the next man. But not at sea!" Gibbs said, passing over the helm and heading off to direct the crew, already shouting orders.  
  
Sparrow grinned at the older man's retreating back, the amount of times and Gibbs had, had this exact conversation... He chuckled at the memories, and then turned his focus to the helm with good humour. The day however still had surprises in store for him.  
  
The sun was slowly making its way towards the eastern horizon; Jack leaned slightly against the wheel. At the moment they were in water shallow enough to drop anchor and he was contemplating calling it a day. He was staring languidly out to sea when, he noticed a large black smudge on the horizon, he jolted upright at the sound of a cry from the nest.  
  
"Ship Ho!"  
  
For the second time that day Jack fished out his spyglass, and focussed in on the ship. There was something very wrong about it. Gibbs came up to the helm, and jack passed the glass to him wordlessly. He took one look through it and cursed,  
  
"She's been set alight mate," he breathed, "She's out now but, I'm surprised she lasted this long."  
  
"Let's move in and 'ave a look-see," Jack said, "D'ye know whose she is?" he asked.  
  
"She's a merchantman by the look o' 'er." Gibb's replied, "Wishin' we'd found 'er first?"  
  
"Aye," Jack nodded, "Burned ships can't come back with more cargo." He grinned thinly, "I'd like te know who did this, bloody amateurs." He muttered.  
  
"You, Captain Jack Sparrow talking 'bout ethics?" Gibbs laughed,  
  
Jack grinned evilly, "But Gibbs ye know how much more fun it is to get the same lot for the second time!" Their mood however, turned grave when they saw the name on the ships charred hull.  
  
"It's the bloody Wind Skimmer," Gibbs said in an angry voice, "One of Marcus 'unters prize ships."  
  
Jacks eyes flashed and he cursed under his breath, I think we aught te find out who did this an pay a small visit," he smiled dangerously.  
  
It had become an unspoken law amongst pirates, in the years since Hunters rise to glory, that his ships were generally left alone. There wasn't a crooked Captain in the Caribbean who hadn't been done a favour by Hunter when he'd been a harbour master. He'd never asked for excessive bribes and had always made incriminating names disappear. Although every now and then one of Hunter's smaller vessels was boarded and its cargo appropriated, the crew would give up easily and all in all the plundering had a friendly air to it. It was the pirates' way of keeping Hunter honest, so to speak. In return his larger, richer ships were left alone, there were plenty of other self important merchants to loot from.  
  
For one of Hunter's prize ships to be utterly destroyed did not bode well for future relations.  
  
"I s'pose your lass came from here." Gibbs said.  
  
"Aye," Jack replied, thoughtfully. His curiosity in the girl had just reached a new level of importance. 


	5. Dreams and Shreds in the Darkness

A/N Read first I'll explain after.  
  
Live for My Dying  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Dreams and Shreds in Darkness  
  
She was running, running as fast as she could, she was tired and her lungs were burning but she couldn't stop running. If she stopped - It would be bad, very, very bad. But she didn't know where she was running, or what she was running from. It was so dark, too dark. She wished so badly that it wasn't dark.  
  
As if in response to her pleas a light appeared ahead of her. Almost sobbing with relief she ran towards it. Dimly now she realised what the purpose of her running had been, she wasn't running away from anything, she running to her father, because he needed her. Hoping she wasn't too late she ran out onto the deck of a ship and almost screamed.  
  
The deck was covered with bodies, all lying in small huddles and what was worse the sense that she was being chased had returned. She ran sobbing from huddle to huddle trying to find her father. With her tear-blurred eyes she almost missed him; he was lying on his back near the rail of the ship. Dropping down next to him she screamed silently,  
  
"He's not dead! He can't be dead!"  
  
She screamed it so vehemently that she believed it, of course he wasn't dead, he couldn't be dead. However a detached part of her told her that she was being hysterical, but she pushed it angrily aside. A roaring once again filled her ears, she shook her head trying to clear it, but it only grew louder. She looked up to see a giant wave towering over her. She had just a second to take a breath and hold onto her father before it crashed down on them.  
  
Then all sense disappeared. She was tumbled over and over, in the roiling blackness; her ears were filled to bursting with the roaring of the wave and the thudding of her own heart. The only thing she was has steadily aware of was her grip on her father and the small amount of air she held in her lungs.  
  
The fierce current of the wave was tugging at the dead weight of her father in her arms. She tried to hold on her fingers tightened, but the wave was pulling her deeper and deeper.  
  
"Let go." A voice resounded clear in her mind, she was unable to tell if it was her voice or her fathers.  
  
"Let go. You have to let go." And so with tears streaming from her eyes she let her grip loosen and she felt the burden slip away. Nothing had ever hurt quite so much as this.  
  
The turbulence in the water settled, but she was so disorientated she did not now which way was up. She was floating in a black emptiness, without any sense of direction, without air. She was alone. But by letting go, she had reached acceptance. 'This is it,' she thought and opened her mouth to breathe, waiting for the water to fill her lungs.  
  
Instead she raggedly inhaled a breath of air that tasted of sweat and fear. She gasped in another shocked breath and came slowly to awareness, and with awareness came fear. She made to open her eyes but they were already open. The darkness lay over her like a thick blanket, smothering her. She listened to the sound of her ragged breathing, trying to fend of the panic. She sat up stiffly and felt something slide off her shoulders. It was a sheet. Grasping at it, she bunched it up in her hands,  
  
'See,' she said to herself, 'It's real, I was dreaming, but I'm awake now, this is real.'  
  
But why was it so dark? It was closing in around her again and she felt the panic trying o override her mind. Making a small tear in the fabric, she winced at the sound. Elspeth hated the sound of tearing material, but it brought her back to reality. It was dark, but she was awake. That was all she needed to know for now.  
  
'Maybe I'm dead,'  
  
She made another longer tear. No this is real, I'm alive! Listening carefully to the sound of the tearing fabric, she regulated her breathing, concentrating on that. Drowning out the darkness.  
  
Breathe in one, two, three, tear; breathe out, one, two, and three.  
  
And so she sat tearing the sheet to shreds until there came a time when imperceptibly the darkness lifted. Soon she could make out the shadow of her hands tearing at the shredded remains of the sheet.  
  
By the time the morning sun was strong enough to illuminate the room; Elspeth tore the last piece of the blanket into tiny strips and let them fall to the pile of shreds in front of her. As the light grew stronger, so did Elspeth's reason and will to survive. The dream lay in shreds with the sheet but the memories were clear in her mind. She stood from the bed and took the half step across the tiny room to the porthole. She sighed deeply at the rising sun and took strength in it.  
  
Her grief was not gone, but it was time to live again.  
  
A/N Hey all I'd just like to apologise for this being so dark and kinda long winded. I wanted to stay as true to my character as I could and what happened in the first to chapters isn't easy to get over. I needed something pretty spectacular to make it possible for me to move on with the story. Thanks for bearing with me, I love you all, and I promise the story will pick up in the next few chapters. So once again I am sorry, but this was necessary. 


	6. Identity and Concealment

**A/N **AHHHHHHHHHHH!! THE SHAME I'm soooooooooo sorry gaaah can you believe it uploading the wrong chapter -- oh no please forgive me for being so slow in fixing it oh no no no no oh well here is the right one ##

Hey my beautiful people, I'm soooooo sorry I've been so slack lately, but unlike many of you, enjoying your summer vacations grrr to you grrrr! I'm suffering through my winter semester of study.... Such fun no? and I've been completely flooded lately. I promise however that I will do my best to update once a week at least. Now onto my thanks to you lovely people. Thank you very much to all of you and I'm sorry again that I've been neglecting you lately. Maruader Lupin and Saxony thank you so so much for sticking with me you guys just make me keep writing. Kate'n'Rose and Falcon Wing thank you for joining me. Sax I'm sorry I made you wait. As to the question of Tomas... sax could be right or Kate'n'Rose could be or you both could be mwahahaha you'll just have to see won't you.

ON WITH THE STORY!!!

**Live for My Dying**

**Chapter 6**

**Identity and Concealment**

Elspeth rested her chin on the porthole taking in the new morning. Slowly her senses were returning and she felt stronger, despite the fact that she was becoming aware of various aches and pains in her body. Now she could let herself think about her situation, her first problem was, who had found her. If she was lucky, she would have been picked up by the British Navy, or a Merchantman, maybe even on of her father's fleet.

"And if I'm unlucky..." she muttered, but she wasn't going to let herself finish that thought, "I'll deal with that if it happens."

She thought back, seeing if she could remember being rescued, - but the images were blurred and she was having trouble separating memory from dream. There was a vague image of a face with dark eyes, but she couldn't be sure if that was just her imagination. As she thought about it she fiddled absently with the chain around her neck.

Suddenly it struck her; - there was a chain around her neck. Hurriedly she wrenched the chain out of the front of her shift and clasped the seal tightly in her hand. She sighed with relief, she'd completely forgotten about the seal. Holding it to the light she studied the insignia, the initials M H on a background of sails. Her father had always been proud of his emblem, she felt tears in her eyes, but was able to smile at the thought of him. He wa- had been a very good man.

Stuffing the seal back into the front of her shift, she blushed for a moment at the thought of being found wearing only the thin linen under dress. Pushing the thought from her mind, she examined the tiny cabin she was currently occupying. It was barely more then two by three metres, (A/N sorry I'm a metric girl, I could work it out in feet if you offered me a million dollars sigh) at least half of which was take up by the bunk against the left wall. The porthole was to the right of the head of the bed. There were however two doors.

One was just to the left of the foot of the bed, while the other was in the middle of the right wall. It was odd, she thought, that such a small cabin would have two doors. She went to the door in the right wall first as it was closest. It was locked. She scowled and hurried to the other door, she reached out to the handle, but it wouldn't turn.

This was not good at all, she thought. Doors were either locked to keep people in, which wasn't very promising for her, or to keep people out, which was even less promising. Maybe there would be an explanation later, but for now she did not deny the feeling of uneasiness in her stomach. She simply could not see why the doors should be locked!

Trying both doors again, with a little more effort this time, she growled a little under her breath. There was no mistaking it, she was stuck. Sitting down next to her pile of shredded sheet, Elspeth prepared herself to wait again. It seemed she was doing a lot of waiting lately.

The wait was surprisingly short in comparison to those prior to it. She was sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chin, concealing the edge of her shift, when she heard a small sound at the door and immediately stood and turned towards it. After the first muffled noise there came the definite sound of a key in the lock of the door at the foot of the bed. Quietly the door was opened and a head appeared, seeing that she was awake, a man walked in.

He was fairly tall and of a lean build. His hair matted into dozens of long locks, woven in with beads clamps and pieces of leather. Dark audacious eyes, emphasised by wide cheek bones, stared boldly down at her. Trying to meet his wandering gaze she raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak and wondering why he didn't. Everything about him made her decidedly uneasy. He had an inane air about him, but something told her that what lay under this exterior was entirely different. Finally meeting her gaze, he grinned roguishly at her questioning expression.

"Was there something lass?" he asked incongruously.

She choked back a stunned splutter at this statement, refusing to let him unbalance her. Showing any sign of weakness would not be beneficial. Quickly regaining her composure, she sat up straight on the edge of the bed and smiled sweetly.

"I was merely wondering, what it was you were here for." She replied archly.

For a moment she thought she had taken the wrong approach. The man's eyes narrowed infinitesimally, and Elspeth caught a sudden flash of steel in his manner, but before she could register fully what she saw the humorous veneer came back in place and he grinned again.

"I –merely- wished te welcome ye aboard –milady-" he said sardonically.

"That is kind of you I'm sure," she replied in a tone that would have had her punished for rudeness at Madame De La Croix, "But perhaps you could tell me precisely what you are welcoming me aboard?"

He swelled up over-grandly, "Why, ye be aboard the finest ship on the Caribbean Sea," she raised her eyebrow at this, and he scowled slightly, "Me pride and joy, the Black Pearl." He finished extravagantly.

Unable to hold back a snort of disbelief, Elspeth fought to keep from laughing.

"And I suppose you're the –great- Captain Jack Sparrow," she said.

The man's expression sobered and his eyes focused fully on hers for the first time,

"Aye." he said with a simple seriousness that sent a chill down her spine, "Now, what I'm wondering, is how a lady of your-" his eyes moved down to the opening of her shift, "Obvious stature, would come to hear of Captain Jack Sparrow, most of me tales would not be bestowed upon a –gentle- personage such as yerself." He finished with a flourish.

With a shiver she realised the reason for the light hearted banter, he had been waiting for her to say something that he could use against her. Her heart went cold as the fullness of her situation dawned on her. She was back almost exactly where she started, all she had done was exchange one pirate crew for another, possibly more ruthless. Ah well, she thought recklessly, she had resigned herself to her fate this morning, and now she would have to deal with it, hopeless though it seemed.

Gathering the strength she could, she looked up at the Captain, this time noticing the direction of his gaze. Memory struck her like a hammer. The seal! She cursed herself for forgetting, and her despair deepened at the thought of what this scoundrel could do with her fathers business if the seal fell into his hands. Feigning maidenly shock, she crossed her arms over the opening of her shift and glared at Captain Sparrow furiously.

Sparrow took his turn to raise an eyebrow at her grinning licentiously.

"Honestly Mr Sparrow, what does it matter to you where I heard of you and beside what leads you to believe I am a lady?" she retorted, standing up to her full height and lifting her chin regally.

"Do I –honestly- have to ask?" he replied, rolling his eyes, "As to why I want to know, well, we found ye floating alone at sea not too far from the wreck of a rich merchantman. With this much information, I don't know what ye're worth te me. If ye are a lady of high status, as ye appear to be, then ye'll most likely fetch a handsome ransom."

"And if I be just a poor captain's lass?" she asked falling into the rough common accent she had spoken with as a young girl.

At this Sparrows eyes narrowed calculatingly, as if measuring her up. Appearing to come to a conclusion, he grinned slightly and with one quick step closed the distance between them. Before she could register shock at his proximity his arm had snaked around her waist and pulled her close against him. Immediately she tried to pull away, but the way he held her she could not use her arms to lever herself away from him, her struggles were ineffectual at best.

"If ye be just a poor captains lass, then I'm sure we can find another use for ye, until we reach a port where we can drop ye off," he said bringing his face very close to hers, "Now perhaps ye'd be so kind as to tell me yer name?" his eyes boring into her own.

"Why would I do that now?" she replied, stopping her struggles and meeting his gaze. Seizing one of the few possibilities open to her she held firm.

His arm tightened around her, and his gaze narrowed dangerously.

"I believe it would be in yer best interest, don't ye?" he said in a dangerously lowered voice. Something in his face reassured her however. Oh he was ruthless and a pirate, but he wasn't going to hurt her, at least not yet.

"No, I don't believe so, you see if I tell you who I am you will be free to take whichever course of action you wish, neither of which will benefit me much at all," she replied almost nonchalantly, "However if I leave you guessing, then your much in the same position I am." She stood still in his grip, which, albeit tight, was not brutal. His eyes flashed for a moment and she caught a trace of what looked very much like amusement, but whatever it was, it was his almost immediately and replaced with a malicious scowl. Almost before she realised it, his free hand had come up to her shoulder and she was pushed up between the cabin wall and the scowling Captain. Her eyes widened and she was unable to contain a gasp of shock. For a second he looked pleased with himself for having unsettled her, but once again the façade came back down, he appeared once again purely malicious.

"Am I going to have to make ye tell me?" he growled into her ear. Taking a deep breath, she tried to settle herself. For some inexplicable reason she felt light-headed and almost giddy. Concentrating on the wall behind her she tried to dispel that feeling.

"N no, I suppose I'll have to explain it to you," she tried to cover her stutter with an exaggerated sigh, appalled that she had let him unsettle her, "If I am a –lady- as you seem to think, then my worth will decrease terribly if I am in any way interfered with, won't it. So –making me- tell you would be entirely out of the question. On the other hand if I am just a poor lass, then it is well to my benefit to seem to be a lady." She finished looking at him innocently. She felt his hold on her weaken minutely, and caught the most fleeting of reactions run across his face.

"Ah you see, though," his expression had become more intense now, but less malign, "All that depends on how much you're worth to me. Possibly even a high ransom would be worth forgoing to satiate my curiosity,"

"But you don't know my worth, are you willing to take that risk?" she replied quickly, meeting his eyes with a confidence she was beginning to realise she didn't feel, a confidence which drained away at the wicked grin on his face.

"I'm a pirate lass, risks are part of my life." And with that he pressed his lips fully upon hers. It was a quick kiss, over in a second. Stunned she sank to the floor, not even aware that she had been released. It wasn't until many moments later, when she had slowed the pounding of her heart, that she realised he had left the cabin. As quickly imaginable, she ran to the door and tried the handle. It was locked again.

Jack slammed the door behind him, and locked it. How had he let her out-manoeuvre him like that! He glared fiercely at the door, but was quickly overcome with the urge to laugh. Looking over the encounter, he grinned and shook his head ruefully. He headed back to the helm chuckling under his breath; he had underestimated the girl it seemed. She was indeed something else.


End file.
